


The Ace, Jack, and Queen

by LazBriar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Aloise La'vey, Anthropomorphic, But with who, Edwin Greene, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Goblin - Freeform, M/M, Multimedia, Original Work clashing with fanfiction, Pik, Slow Burn, Smut soon yes, Violence, imp, rabbit - Freeform, relationships will happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazBriar/pseuds/LazBriar
Summary: Edwin, Pik, and Aloise find themselves flung into unfamiliar territory. See: the chaotic afterlife and bustling domain known only as Pentagram City. Stranded in a reality unlike anything their own, they've got to make new friends and find a way home.But something's followed them too, bringing danger to not only themselves, but their allies as well. When strange realities collide, what possibly survives?
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Crazy Comes Around

**Author's Note:**

> Is it a smart thing to start up a side-series while you're writing a small novel at the same time!? Survey says. . . yes!
> 
> Anyway, this idea has been in my brain for a good, long while and I am BEYOND excited to finally get to it. I don't know how long it is, but I'm just oozin' for it (ew). And yes, I do write my own original works! Aloise, Edwin, and Pik are part of a series "Three of a Kind" I write on the side. Now they're here! Why? WHY NOT. Fanfiction has been an amazing learning tool and it's pretty interesting to take characters you write in a different setting and just toss em' into the grinder. For those that check it out, I hope it's a fun read!

**The Ace, Jack, and Queen**

By Laz Briar

_I - "Crazy Comes Around"_

“This taste like I might die.”

Edwin stared at the brown, unassuming glass, its contents similar to liquid fire dipped in brine with an aftertaste of residual chemical death, a brew that burned his throat and melted his stomach. Truly horrid, foul stuff, like swigging the bile of a beast’s belly.

He took another swig, gasping after he knocked it back. He wiggled the glass at his two companions. “Fancy a swig?”

His friend on the left brightened, his friend on the right dawned a disgusted expression.

“PASS’ER OVER!” Pik screeched, voice barely audible over the surrounding noise. Aloise scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Edwin heaved the bitter sauce to his smaller compatriot. She nabbed it at once and took several, greedy gulps. When finished, she smacked her lips, looking the drink over, then shrugging.

“Feh, bleh, meh. I’ve had better!”

Her gold eyes swung to Aloise. “C’mon, princess! Get in on this shit!”

Aloise raised a hand. “No. Absolutely _not.”_

“You sure?” said Edwin, resting arms on the table. “I’m taking a crack of a guess here, but doubt this ramshack leg-of-a-place has wine. Don’t even know what I swaddled down, tastes like dog piss soup.”

Aloise stared. “ _Some_ of us have to show self-control, _Eddy.”_

Pik snorted and drank more. “Prude!”

Edwin looked around, pulling at his wrappings to get a better view of the _chaos_ surrounding the trio. When Pik finished, he took the bottle back and fancied one more gulp. “To self-control!” he said with a bottle raise.

Because really, what the _hell_ were they supposed to do in the meantime? This place, _all of it,_ was pushing sense and comprehension to the wayside. Oh, sure, it had similarities to the Isle Kadro, the land of the dysfunctional misfit, but they were _timid_ ones at best.

They sat at a corner table, much like you would at any old tavern. But it wasn’t any old tavern. It was a perplexing mix of bright lights and voices and _creatures._ Oddities and monstrosities of every size and shape conversed around them, set to the thumping beats of – well, that was music was it? Arcane boxes showcasing magical screens with talking figures hung off the wall corners, wall’s backlit with blue neon, pink strobes, and colors that didn’t even seem _possible._ Self-control? Sol above, this place was a fucking orgy of chaos!

“Edwin,” said Aloise, a soft plead. “Enough is enough, don’t you think?”

Edwin set the bottle down. All right, _all right._ “Sorry! Wanted to blend in the locals a bit. When in _Sola,_ n’all that.”

Well, if _Aloise_ was cautioning him, he ought to listen. Where Pik was a creature of impulse and substance, his other effeminate friend maintained reservations of control (at first, anyway). Funny, these two looked right at home.

On one side, ol’ Pik. Short, stacked, much like a pretty girl, if said pretty girl had long ears, greenish flesh, wide, cindering yellow eyes and a grin full of chompy-fangs. She wore a “robe” but said attire was cut in most places and did a bit too much to reveal her squat, hourglass frame, only obscured by wide-brim hat and river of black hair. It was extra funny, because it wasn’t her _real_ appearance. She was too short to sit in the provided chair, so she stood in it instead.

She was _right at home._ Aloise, though. . .

Kept together, reserved, legs folded, tall ears wincing and flicking at every intrusive sound. He had features of a rabbit, a soft but tempered face bearing pink freckles and matching shock of pink hair. A form-hugging, tight suit-vest and pants clung to his shapely frame, and if you looked at him from another angle, you’d easily mistake him for a lass. Up close, a prince. Reality? An Incubi.

Edwin glanced at the plate in front of the regal rabbit, which was still caked with food. Uh, “food,” a generous description. It was some viscous clump of meat, or so Edwin guessed.

“Not hungry?”

Aloise forced a laugh, gesturing with his finger as the plate pushed away from him. “I have seen Pik grab bugs off zhe ground more appetizing than zhat.”

Pik saw opportunity. “Your loss, pretty boy!”

She jammed a fork into the, er, glob, and hoisted into her mouth, gnashing on it with messy chews. Edwin watched with quiet amusement.

“What should I tell the chef?”

Pik gave it a few more thoughtful chews. “Ummsh. Tssh liksh. . .”

Aloise glanced down. “Pik. _Swallow.”_

Scoffing, the Gob flipped him off before doing so, licking lips. “Like a frog. Like a frog dipped in mud. And shit.”

Edwin looked to Aloise. “See? A fine cuisine.”

“You’re _very_ drunk,” said the rabbit with a sigh.

“When is he _not?”_ added Pik.

Edwin eyed the glass and looked at the now-empty bottle. “Well then,” he started, looking between.

“Guess I _can_ rule it out. This isn’t a dream, and I’m not tossed out with some hogs, am I?”

He meant blackout, futzed, utterly and totally scuz-drunk. Edwin was _not._ Even though the surrounding environment looked every bit the fever dream, it was – even to his astonishment – completely real.

“Just joining us then, bog-brain?” chittered Pik with a little cackle. “If we were all _skutsa_ on hooch I’d make that for the rest of my life!”

Far be it from Ed to totally trust the senses of his impulse-driven friend. He glanced to Aloise for reassurance.

Aloise sensed the question. “It’s _very_ real. Zhis is no dream.”

Edwin sat back, taking off his hat a brief moment, running a hand through long, silver hair. “Shit of the morning sun. . .”

Wow. So, the event previous wasn’t a hallucination? They were out in the black waters, sailing off from the Isle Kadro. They drifted past _Morrikan’s Eye,_ a great flash, and then. . . this place. What was “this place,” again?

Well, guess it depended where you looked or who you asked. To many, it was _Hell._ Oblivion. The afterlife, Down Below, underworld, so on and so forth. But also, it was a location, a nexus, a thriving. . . utopia? Dystopia? _Pentagram City._ An ocean of towering buildings the likes rivaling the _Capita Prima_ spires and citadels, a sky burning with pinkish-red hues and emblazoned with an undying, well, pentagram. Its roads were a blitz of oddities and abominations, the kind you were warned about back home. _Daemons,_ Edwin would guess. _Aetherlings._ But they _weren’t_ that.

He, Pik, and Aloise were _not_ home. By all accounts, they weren’t even in the same afterlife! And by Sol, was _that_ what all this was? Another dimension?

Edwin glanced around him. He saw something like a scarlet reptile promptly bash in the head of what looked like a sea vermin, sending the small body to the ground in a pool of blood. There were cheers and hollers.

“This is a randy crowd,” Edwin commented. “And we’re not even at a brothel.”

By this, he meant, chances of survival were decreasing every moment they stayed in the city.

“Zhey can’t even dress!” growled Aloise. “No sense of style. Shit drinks! Shit music! Just _shit._ ”

Pik snickered. “Dunno, I think it’s _fuk-wukking_ great!”

Edwin gave her a look. “Oh? But Pik, something tells me, _no peppers.”_

Her grin faded. “. . .no peppers?”

“Didn’t even see a weed out there, did you?”

Pik blinked, then slapped her green cheeks in horror. “NO!”

Edwin made a wide gesture, covered head wobbling. “If I had to take stock of consensus, it’s that we shouldn’t be here.”

He stared at them both a while, and when they said nothing, he leaned close. “Ah. Loves. This is the part where you say you _know_ how to get back.”

They blinked, Pik and Aloise looking between eachother.

“What? Me!?” sputtered Pik.

Aloise appeared just as helpless. “Edwin, how. . . how would we know what to do!?”

Edwin shrugged. “This is your cloth, innit? Demons? Hell? South of the sun? Bad place?”

Aloise tilted his head. “It doesn’t work like zhat.”

The effete rabbit made a gesture in the air, lights catching his black nailpolish. “We don’t have some magic zhing that fixes all zhis. We’re. . .”

Edwin lifted his hat. “Stuck.”

A loud crashing noise and more cheers caused Aloise’s face to twist with an annoyed expression. “Unfortunately.”

Pik looked at them both. “Awh, come on! You stik-wuks! We’ll be fine! This place ain’t nothin’! Betcha by tomorrow we’ll be back on the run down the sunny countryside!”

Aloise look to her and forced a small, but weak, smile, while Edwin crossed his arms. “Humh.”

Well, this was stickier than an evening at the _Rozen_ brothel. What the hell were they gonna’ do, literally? Edwin ran through the cobwebs of his alcohol addled mind and tried to form a solution. He thought back to the _Eye,_ that massive vortex of _bad_ magic. By his recollection wasn’t that shipwreck graveyard supposed to be just a big ghost story? Yet when they saw it, it exploded in a whirlwind of unholy energy. A lot of it. Was there _so much_ it, dunno, threw them into a different reality?

Then, maybe, some corresponding wellspring of magical nonsense could send them right back? Or eviscerate their souls and essences down to the last atom. _Humh._

As Edwin pondered, his silver eyes caught the abrupt motions of distant figures, all of which were buckling with laughter. In fact, the whole bar began to erupt in guffaws, mocking and discordant. They were pointing and jeering at one of those fancy screens (telesomethings they called them?), in particular at something. No, _someone._

Aloise grumbled, the noise offending his sensitive ears, while Pik turned to see too. On the screen, they could make out a scroll of words (and thank goodness by some cosmic coincidence it was in _Engla Basa)_ bannered over a pair of demons (one in a strange mask and the other as vicious as a hornet’s cunt) _._ Something something PRINCESS OF HELL sharing something something passion project scrolled by.

There was a scrambling of other words, other things Edwin couldn’t rightly make out. He did, however, watch this “princess” set the stage and, to his drunken astonishment, break out in song? Was he one hundred percent this wasn’t a fever dream?

 _“I have a dream!”_ he heard the girl say, her voice sweet and heavenly, enough that it broke through the rambunctious noise of the bar.

What followed was, well, nothing short of drug-induced trip something akin to eating one of Pik’s home grown veggies. In the meantime, though, Edwin stuck to a _very particular_ word: Princess. Of _Hell._ Of, he assumed, this entire city and _then_ some. She looked, uh, pleasant enough? Though basing that on the delirium of her color-infused sonnet wasn’t the best thing to go on, even it looked yards better than the company around these parts. But, someone like her could certainly have an idea of how to get he and his friends back home.

Dare he even think it? She was, ah, charming?

Well, once the song finished that didn’t have the intended impact, because the laughs got harder. Aloise grimaced, his fanged teeth showing.

“Can we _leave_ soon?”

Edwin studied the screen. “Maybe.”

He blinked. What did the say, this Charlotte Magne? The Happy Hotel?

He didn’t have time to think it over. The rowdy crowd moved, and one pair of chattering demons ambled past the trio’s table, a bit drunkenly. One of them, carrying a drink, knocked right into Aloise’s back and spilled some of the foul brew on the rabbit’s suit vest. Aloise grunted, knocked forward, eyes widening in _absolute horror_ as the stinking alcohol stained his clothes. The creatures took no notice, chattering amongst themselves.

“Excuse _you,”_ he hissed, white sclera shifting to black as he stood. The creature, something like a vulture with too many eyes, turned to blink back in a drunken haze.

“Now, now, love hold on,” Edwin started to say, raising a gloved hand. Oh Sol it was far, far too late. Pik snickered, shuffling in her satchel.

 _“Do you know what you did?”_ continued the effete rabbit. “ _This was a one of a kind, custom, Ussadian silk and you **ruined it.”**_

The vulture and its companion, a horned demon, just laughed. “What? Fuck off.”

Edwin gave a tired, expected sigh, opening his long coat and pulling out his _Solarian Revolvers._

Aloise, however. . .

From his seemingly dainty hand, he summoned a knife, a shining, polished butcher’s cleaver so sharp it parted the air around it. With a graceful yet brutal stroke, he lunged forward and sent the steel screaming down the vulture’s head, where it carved through its skull like butter. He didn’t even have time to comprehend his brain matter parting before Aloise retrieved the knife, unleashing a geyser of blood. The other gawked, then screamed.

“What!? You! YOU FUCK! YOU’RE DEAD!”

Edwin looked to Pik, helpless, where she grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she said. “One _Aloise-breakdown-mushroom,_ comin’ up!”

-*-

“GGHG!”

A resounding, multi-colored explosion accompanied the mad dash of three (well, two) silhouttes as they sped away from the tavern, or rather, its ruins. Plumes of green-blue smoke intermixed with the bursting overgrowth of massive mushrooms and vines vomited from the windows of the bar, coiling into the air like mutant snakes. A handy little thing, all thanks to Pik, what with her mastery of fungomancy.

Aloise was none too pleased, lithe figure carried over-the-shoulder by Edwin as he made a mad dash away from the scene. Goopy entrails and patches of blood stained his long black boar-leather cloak, while Aloise hissed and squirmed.

“Ruined!” he screamed. “ _ZHEY RUINED IT, EDDY!”_

“Cut em’ some slack, love!” Edwin shouted above the chaotic yells.

 _“_ I _will_ cut zhem if you PUT ME DOWN!”

“Nnnooo can do!”

Yes, well, Aloise’s decision to promptly split one of the bar-goers like a cut of pork went over about as well slicing someone open like a cut of pork.

A crowd of (surviving) sinners were hot on their metaphorical tail, brandishing a variety of weapons, axes, hatchets and _was that a dildo cover in razor blades?_ Ah, they could make the Scarlet Clerics blush with all those.

Pik, following close behind, holding hat down, glanced back and growled. “FUGGOFF YA’ MUKKIN’ FUKWAS!”

She promptly dug into her satchel, pulling free a vial of bright, orange liquid, an enchanted hot sauce. Popping it open, she sent a splash towards their chasers which promptly melted those unlucky enough to get caught in its sticky embrace.

This death-dance went on for a spell, the trio hopping down every corner and street they could find before their assailants were either too tired, dead, or tired _and_ dead. It was like getting lost in a maze of lights, a real horror show. They had _no_ real sense or idea of where to go, stopping by a roadside corner when they were certain they were “safe.”

Edwin heaved, setting Aloise down, rubbing his head. “I think that. . . sobered. . . me up. . .”

He straightened, getting his bearings. “That’s terrible.”

Pik huffed too, plopping to her haunches, where Aloise _seethed._ He yanked off his vest, looking it over with wounded disdain, running black fingernail where the piss-booze had sunk in. He rubbed his eyes, nearly blotching his eyeshadow.

“I have to _burn_ zhis.”

Edwin glanced to the effete rabbit, watching his puff tail wiggle in pure agitation. “That’s. . . a bit. . . dramatic. . .”

Pik guffawed. “Ya’ forget who you’re talking to, bog-brain?”

Edwin collected his breath, looking around. “You did sort of _cut a man in half,”_ he said.

“Hmph,” Aloise scoffed, putting hand to hip. He looked to Pik and Edwin. “Is everyone all right?”

Edwin looked himself over. “Alive. Less drunk. Fifty-fifty.”

Pik stood now, batting Aloise on the leg, grinning up to him. “You’re a fugging riot when you get murder-y, pretty boy!”

Aloise wiped off the rest of his suit from dust and muck, visibly grimacing. “Zhis is a nightmare! I need. . . a bath and wine and. . . agh. . .”

Edwin spied something. “It’s hard all over, love. . .” he trailed. Because, _hello._

Well, by some manner of cosmic, narrative fate, why, there it was! Right? Was Sol’s light shining even in a horrid realm like this? Maybe. Whatever the case or convenience, down the road and within his peripheral was the building he saw previous: the Happy Hotel. It was _damn_ obvious, too. The bloody thing looked like a sorcerer’s idea of a good time, an orgy of buildings thrown together, held together by who knew what.

“. . .but I think our luck is about to change.”

Aloise perked, features brightening. He swiveled to look at Edwin. “Really?”

Edwin rubbed his chin underneath scarf, pointing offhandedly towards the indicated Hotel. “Unless that’s a hallucination, then, yes.”

Pik followed his fingers, squinting. “Wait, wuh. What are you looking at, bog-brain? Not _that_ junk-heap, right?”

“Everything here is a heap of shit,” said Edwin. “Besides, don’t you like junk?”

“Yeah. . . but. . .”

Aloise looked too. “Oh, _saints save us.”_

“It’s a start,” continued Edwin. “Leg-on-a-dog. What’ve we for pocket change?”

Aloise offered a soft huff, reminded of their situation. Was their wealth even good here? “Two _Solan_ , fifteen silver _Cente,_ and a pence handful.”

Pik grumbled. “In other words, nothin’.”

“At zhis point I’d just pay for a hot bath.”

Drink, bath, and food that possibly didn’t taste like the entrails of a three-day old fish. That was enough for Edwin and no doubt his companions.

Aloise tilted his head, studying the distant referred building. “And how do we know zhey won’t try to, ah, kill us?”

“Or eat us,” added Pik.

“Or shoot us.”

“Or shoot us and _then_ eat us!”

Edwin waved it. “It’ll be fine. It says _Hap-“_

He squinted. Hazbin Hotel? “It doesn’t say death hotel, does it?”

He made a wide gesture. “Come on loves, the poppy on the magic-box looked as spry as a spring morning. Seems all right, innit? And Al, she probably likes musicals. And _plays.”_

Aloise gave a soft ‘oh.’ “Plays?”

One could feel Edwin smile through his scarf. “She’s a regular Anderly, I bet.”

-*-

Husk’s ears perked. Not from the usual, indistinct noises of the Hotel or the dull chime of casino-sounds emanating from his concierge desk, but something else. Footsteps. Oh, good, _great._ Footsteps from outside? Near the door? That meant more bodies, more people, more obnoxious faces. The last person to waltz through the foyer was the smiley, slimy bastard Alastor, the reason he was _stuck here._ You put more boots on the carpet? Devil, just extra problems, problems he wasn’t remotely drunk enough for. He fished out a clear, brandless green bottle of “cheap booze” and swung it back, wiping his lips. Ugh, here we go.

The door rattled, in the way one might struggle to open it. Wait, what? It rattled again, the handles turning, but not the _right_ way. Finally, it kicked ajar as a tall, lean thing stumbled in outright falling on the carpeted floor before pushing itself back up.

Husk leered. The fuck?

“Nice job, mudfoot,” a small, girlish voice said. Husk peered in the sound's direction, as not one, but _three_ silhouettes entered, all wearing cautious expressions. Husk immediately took stock, sensing danger, because it was Hell, after all. _Everyone_ was dangerous.

A tall one, kinda lanky. A right fucking ghoul he was, in fact. From head to toe, the first to enter was cloaked in black, ragged leathers stained by substances Husk couldn’t be bothered to guess at. One long overcoat hid a smaller one, straps around the chest, legs, maybe back? He couldn’t make out this. . . thing. . . because you couldn’t even see his face! Hat and scarf disguised whatever was behind all that, and the only indication there was a _man_ there was a sliver between scarf and hat, two silvery eyes peeking out from the space.

The other two? Well, damn, what even? One was short and green, a bit like Niffty, if Niffty was on the curvier side and had another eye. Then the other was. . . posh? A royal? Some uppity, foppish fella. Or lady? Hard to tell.

They all looked like headaches.

“Well dog-on-a-leg, not bad,” Husk heard the tall one mutter.

This is the part where the attendant smiles, welcomes new guests, and inquires about their stay. Husk did none of those things.

The trio of eyes came to the winged sinner, seeing that he was the only one about (wouldn’t stay that way for long once the Miss found out). The tall one approached, arms wide.

“My good man!” he said, his voice carrying an accent Husk didn’t recognize. In fact, there was something real off about these three. Not in the “spooky demon overlord” way, just, _off._

Husk rolled his eyes, whispering a ‘piss off.’ The ghoulish fellow approached, hands resting on the concierge desk.

“Now that’s a smile that could get Sol out of bed,” he continued. “Sun always rises, innit?”

Husk blinked. “ _What?”_

The newbie faltered, coughing into his fist. “Oh, forget that then. Sorry, I don’t know how they say hello ‘round these parts.”

Husk frowned. “Starts with fuck and ends with off.”

The newcomer laughed. “Diamonds!”

He leaned. “Seeing as how you and I are close friends already, I’ll get to the point. Fancy this place somewhere to stay, I take it? We could _really_ use something like that, preferably a room that doesn’t smell like leech’s piss.”

Husk grumbled. Yep. He opened the check-in book, drinking once more. “Yeah, yeah. Welcome to the Happy Hotel, where sinners get redeemed, yadda yadda yadda.”

As he did, the other two strode up, observing their surroundings, standing adjacent to their associate. Brr. Husk shivered, but he didn’t know why.

The tall man turned to the others. “See? _Happy._ We’re off to a bloody good start.”

The posh one – with his rabbit features – wore a dark smile. “Sinners? Mm, I like zhe sound of zhat.”

The smaller girl chittered. “Hey whiskers! This place is kind of a dump!”

Husk squinted, looking down. “Yeah. I know.” He looked between them.

“Ugh, gimme your names.”

There was a pause, and the trio looked at each other, hesitant, as if giving out said names might be unwise. In fact, the tall one shifted, his silver gaze scanning over the walls, like he was hunting something down, a threat.

“Humh.”

Then, he brightened, patting himself. “Edwin Greene.”

The rabbit pushed closer, his voice like a lustful song. “Aloise La’vey.”

Next, the small one. However, the _word_ she spoke was. . . it didn’t make sense. Edwin chuckled. “Not that name, love.”

She chuckled. “Oh. Right. _Pik._ With a ‘k’, kay?”

Husk huffed and wrote it down, with a _‘c.’_

“Amazing,” he groused.

“I’d like to think so,” added Edwin. “What do we owe?”

Husk blinked. “Ain’t no charge, spook.”

Edwin waivered. “. . .am I still drunk? No. . . charge?”

“Drunk? How ‘bout deaf. That’s what I said, _no charge._ Ain’t how the place works.”

Here, Edwin removed his hat, obliterated with astonishment. It was also here Husk’s eyes went a shade wider, because. . . he wasn’t a spook. Nor a ghoul, a demon, or sinner. No! What the hell, this man was, well, _an actual man._ Flesh, blood, skin (pale, but still skin). Silver hair ran down his neck like a river and despite the fairly monstrous complexion of his attire, he looked no more dangerous than a spring morning.

“Well my _good man,”_ continued Edwin, tone pleasant. “I’m just all right-eager to know how it works then! Er, well, later anyway.”

From his hat he procured a small glass no larger than a finger. He popped it open, swigging it, and even Husk could tell that was the unmistakable scent of a hard drink.

His rabbit friend gave an unapproving grunt. “ _Eddy_.”

“What?” he said. “S’bad luck to not drink in a new place with new friends.”

“Nobody says that!” interjected Pik.

“Well I do.”

Huh. At least the fella’ had a taste for good booze, and hell, Husk _almost_ wanted to ask for some. Almost.

“Whatever,” said the winged-sinner. “I’m gonna’ have to get the Miss. Meantime, if you freaks have any weapons, check’em in now.”

Edwin hummed, looking himself over. Then. . .

He procured a pair of revolvers. Well, “revolvers” was generous, they bore a similar shape but weren’t anything like Husk had ever seen. Then what appeared to be a blunderbuss. Flintlocks. Something that was like a prototype shotgun. And a rifle. And another rifle!? And knives, and small explosive canisters, and _more_ knives, and an automatic-crossbow, and some kind of wrist-bound device, and. . . fucking hell, was he packing an armory in that getup!?

“Sa’ll of them, I think.”

Husk stared at the neat river of guns in front of him. Damn. He knew demons were packing, but this? He didn’t even bother with the other two.

Ain’t drunk enough for this.

“I’m gettin’ Miss Magne. You weirdos stay there and don’t fuck anything up.”

“No promises, _cak-wa_!” challenged Pik.

“Don’t be a stranger _too_ long,” cooed Aloise, flashing him a gaze that was _terrifyingly_ similar to the spider. _Ugh._

-*-

_“OHMYGODTHISISMAZING!”_

Well, look at this. Wasn’t she just right off the chin of Sol?

The grumpy concierge had left the three alone to get their bearings, to which they took stock of _immediately._ Aloise commented on the layers of dust but indicated the place was much fancier than the dives they’d been visiting. Pik grumbled about a lack of magic vegetables. Edwin? Well, he spied those stocks of drink he did, right quick!

Now came the rest, and by that, the indicated “Miss Magne,” or Princess of Hell. She was a lot taller than Edwin figured her for.

Snow-white skin, locks of glimmering gold hair, an inviting complexion, form-fitting suit, and eyes that utterly dazzled with stars. The _moment_ she spied Edwin and his friends, she practically squeaked.

“NEW. . . GUESTS! NEW GUESTS! _VAGGIE! ANGEL! EVERYONE!”_

Edwin nodded to Aloise and Pik. “Well, she’s not trying to kill us. Good start.”

Aloise gave her a once over. “She has a lovely taste in clothes.”

“Is she high?” Pik commented.

She wasn’t alone, though. The three were in a living quarters, the interior draped in againg wallpaper, paintings, and obscene furnishings. There were old couches and sofas layered about, along with “welcome” banners plastered every which-way, like it was ready to host a party. Well, three’s a crowd.

Aloise’s ears wiggled, a flurry of footsteps and voices echoing from another room as _more_ appeared.

“Da hell is Chuck screechin’ bout now!?”

“I’M COMING!” said another.

Snickers. _“YeahI’llfuckin’betehehehe!”_

Rushing in were an additional two figures, of which Edwin assumed were guests or staff. Or both? Who knew. One was draped in long, white hair, hiding her one-eye, accented by short white dress and stockings, spear in hand. The other? Uhh.

Edwin glanced at Aloise, then back to the other, then back to the rabbit. Huh. At the girl’s side was a tall, effeminate, ah, spider? Yes, spider, draped in white fluff, striped suit, pink freckles and long kinky-boots. Much like Aloise, if he hadn’t spoken, Edwin would easily have mistaken him for a lass.

The girl wore an alarmed expression, the other annoyed. When they saw Miss Magne was bedazzled – not in trouble – they eased up.

The princess, in the meantime, gestured wildly at the three. “ _Loooook! Looklooklook!”_

The one wielding the spear squinted, looking at Charlotte, then to the three. She exhaled, resting spear on ground. “Uhm.”

“Vaggie!” continued the princess, rushing over, grabbing said ‘Vaggie’ by the shoulders. _“REAL. GUESTS.”_

“I see them, I see them!” said Vaggie, calming her companion down.

“Ooooh,” purred the tall spider-demon. “ _So do I.”_

He leaned a little, wiggling fingers at them. Well, specifically at Edwin.

“Ey, screamer,” continued the spider in reference to Charlie, his gaze locked to Edwin. “Ya’ gonna introduce us, or what?”

Edwin raised a hand. “Easily done. Edwin, Aloise, Pik. There. We’re all friends, easier than an evening harlot!”

The spider chuckled. “Ya’ like dem harlots, huh?”

Charlie, in the meantime, settled a degree. A _bit._ Her movements were ecstatic, vivid, and filled with enthuse. It was charming but quite off-putting too.

“Right, right, right!” she said, stepping back, brushing her hair and straightening her overalls. “Sorry, sorry! This is just so _exciting!_ Aahaha, hah! Ahm. I’m Charlie Magne, and this is the _Happy Hotel,_ and this is AMAZING!”

Aloise, remembering her distinction, took a gentle bow. “Miss Magne, zhe Princess of Hell. It’s an honor, Your Excellence.”

When Edwin didn’t follow, he nudged him. “Oh, right, right.” Edwin put hat to chest, also giving a short bow.

Charlie blushed, then grinned. “EEEEEEE.”

She gestured to her side companions. “This is Vaggie!”

Pik tried _hard_ not to snort with laughter.

“And this our first patient, Angel Dust!”

Said Angel Dust proceed to tug at his black bow-tie choker, pushing out fluff “cleavage,” smirking. “Ya’ know why dey call me dat? Cause I’m addictive, baby.”

Pik’s button face stretched with a manic grin. “Oh, I fuggin’ dig this fella! Wait, he’s a fella, right?”

Angel heard, making a quick gesture at his crotch with a wink. “Ya’ wanna’ find out?”

At this, Aloise rolled his eyes, rubbing head. “As subtle as a bull and half as graceful.”

Angel’s smirk fell, glancing to Aloise, and for a moment, their eyes met. The loathing was palpable.

Perhaps Charlie sensed this, or was just eager to continue, but either way, she did. She proceeded to get everyone acquainted and explain what the Happy Hotel was about (or was it Hazbin? Edwin swore the sign read different). This place, she divulged, was for sinners trying to redeem themselves, for demons to prove their souls better and get into Heaven, return to paradise. _None_ of it sounded familiar. No mentions of Sol Solarius, the Aether, the _Incanta Obliterata,_ or any of the religious ponderings of home. If there was any doubt he and his friends were in a different realm, it was gone now.

But Edwin couldn’t lie, that was charming. This city teemed with murders and fiends and worse. Oh, he could only imagine how bad it got. But, she saw in this marsh of filth and failure something. Hope. She bled optimism, if not too much. It was magnetic. Hard to believe anyone could jeer and mock such a sweet thing.

_“Are my ears burning?”_

Now came _another_ voice. Distinct and unusual it was, like it was laced with some kind of electric interference. At once, a figure coalesced into the room, waltzing from the shadows. Here, arrived a ghoulish thing of a man, his lean body draped in scarlet, patchy pinstripe suit, twiddling a staff, wearing a crescent, gold grin. His hair was red-black, swept like ears, and his presence was _all sorts_ of foul. Edwin didn’t need “Syte” to know this fella was bad mojo.

His crimson eyes roamed over the trio. “Haha, take them from the fire! I thought I caught the cries of desperate, hopeless souls!”

Vaggie grumbled and Charlie forced her smile. “Ohoh, ahaha, eyes, and this is-”

He didn’t let her finish, swinging to the three, gesturing wide. “Alastor, my ragged assemblage, pleasure to make your acquaintance! Why, what a draw, you’re a regular three of a kind, ahah!”

Instantly, Pik and Aloise buzzed. The rabbit’s ears went tall, wiggling, cupped towards the newcomer, while Pik gave this Alastor a long, studious once over.

“Ooooh,” cooed Pik. “You’re trouble, ain’t ya?”

Aloise tapped his chin. “Zhat’s very clever. Zhe suit is a little scuffed, but fixable. Oh, and your _eyeshadow._ Sieur, what colors do you use?”

Alastor grinned, looking at the two. “I can’t help but feel we’re already familiar, ahah!”

Aloise smirked. He knew. “Hide zhe knife behind zhe suit, as zhey say.”

“I’m impressed,” commented Edwin. “These two don’t get buggered easy.”

Alastor threw his head back with laughter. “My pallid friend, the only one interested in buggery is _that_ one over there!” he said, with a gesture to Angel Dust.

“Alastor, please,” interrupted Charlie. “Don’t scare them off!”

Alastor turned, his sneer widening. “Never you worry, miss! When I want to frighten, _you’ll know.”_

Edwin took stock of the newcomer and threw him in the mental junkpile list he called “trouble.” Yes, this one was a schemer, easy to see, although for what and why he couldn’t tell. But his antics and demeanor? Oh, he had something going on, and the reaction he instilled to his friends was enough to tip him off. In the same vein, Alastor struck him as someone with powers. Powers that might get them back home? Humh.

“OHJEEZE!” Charlie exclaimed. “Vaggie, VAGGIE! DINNER!”

Alastor turned. “Splendid idea! Why, what bonds new company faster than a heart-y meal, ahaha!”

Dinner? Well now. Free room, free eat, and maybe free drink? This was going better than expected.

“Yeah!” chimed Angel Dust. “Get us all nice n’personal. Ya’ can sit next to me, _Eddy.”_

At that, Aloise glared, forcing back a hiss.

Edwin shrugged, holding up an invisible bottle. “Diamonds.”

Charlie started to pace, caught in a whirlwind of new things. “Okay, uh, uh, uh, Vaggie! Show them to their rooms! Angel, help me with dinner! Get the Bois!”

The spider frowned. “What? Awwwh, but we was gonna’ get real acquainted-like!”

“Later!”

As they left, Alastor chuckled. “What a hilarious hullabaloo! Oh, I’m sensing things, _big_ things indeed, ahaha!”

He turned to sneer at the three, eyes darkening, full of malignant intent. “Staaay tuned.”

Edwin blinked. Ominous! Also, the spook disappeared. The three looked between each other, Edwin giving a wide shrug. “Nice fella’. Evil as the fucking ocean wind and I fancy he’s plannin’ to shag the boat. But nice fella.”

Aloise took a breath, push aside his 'interaction' with Angel Dust, calming. “He didn’t tell me what his makeup regiment was.”

“Betcha’ he’s got lace undies!” commented Pik. "Betch'a they _all_ do! Eh-heh-weh-heh!"

As they chattered, Vaggie approached, clearing her throat and attempting to dawn a pleasant expression. Things were moving fast, but at least nobody wanted to kill each other. Yet. “Uh. Hi. Follow me?”

Once again, Aloise gestured with a small bow. “Please. Lead the way.”

-*-

“Sorry,” Vaggie said as she led the three upstairs to a long hall. “About, uh, Charlie. She’s a little excited. We’ve had some, uh, interesting few days.”

Edwin took stock of their surroundings, noting the faded – yet regal – appearance of the place. “Love, you’ve _no idea.”_

Eventually, they reached a black, baroque door, a brass “333” emblazoned in the door, gesturing to it. “Well, here you go. It should be big enough for the three of you, buuut if you want your own rooms we’ve definitely go the space.”

Aloise offered a soft laugh. “Zhey should be so lucky. No, better we stick together.”

Edwin’s grin was felt through his scarf. “Guilty. Can’t stay outta’ trouble.”

“Or _sober,”_ chided Pik.

Vaggie offered a stiff smile. “Ohh, hrm. Well, at least you and Husk will get along?”

She opened the door, gesturing inside. “In any case, uh, welcome home. Enjoy your stay. We’ll be having dinner soon, too, so feel free to clean up.”

Aloise folded his hands in front of him as if in prayer. “ _You have hot water?”_

“. . .yes?”

The rabbit made a sound not dissimilar from an orgasm.

With pleasantries made, the trio shuffled into the room, flicking lights on, embraced by the outright _royal_ furnishings of an enormous Hotel room. It was, in essence, even better than half the taverns they knew from Sol Solaria, and it didn’t cost a damn thing. Certainly, it was _odd,_ because said furnishings had a dash of utter horror surrounding them, but it was a small price to pay to not pay anything at all.

Huh. _It didn’t cost anything._ So, what was the catch?

Well, questions for later. Right now, Aloise fancied a change of clothes, Pik was quick to set up her “lab,” and Edwin? He could use a drink. All of them. If that sourpuss was anything to go by, the concierge offered a blitz of booze too. 

As Edwin set aside his overcoat, hat, and scarf, finally revealing his pale complexion, a thought wandered into his head. He set himself on bed's edge, stretching, mulling. He hadn’t been able to think clearly since they were running from place to place, surrounded by chaotic violence (not so much different from home, eh?). Now, though, he could gather his thoughts. Not just about getting home, though.

The Eye. _Morrikan’s Eye_. It opened like a vortex, he recalled, throwing them into this reality. But, they were the only three, right?

Nothing _else_ came through, right? There were only wreckages out in the black waters. And ghosts, and memories, and nightmares. Spooky stories to tell privateers and green-eared deckhands so they the captain didn't sail into mutant coral rocks. Nothing else except. . .

Edwin rubbed his chin.

And _him._

[“Uh oh.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfh7to0dmco)


	2. Two Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio introduce themselves, while Angel has to show Aloise around town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes, this is still happening.

**II -"Two Pair"**

Grab the gun for the villain at your bedside!

Edwin sputtered awake with a stumble and snort, feeling for a weapon that wasn’t there. First, a spring of panic, then a touch a fear. Instinctively his hand shot to his face to pull off what he _thought_ was a swarm of blood leeches, only to feel. . . nothing. Oh.

“Hrubm?”

First off, he fell asleep. Secondly, he fell asleep? He hadn’t done that in, well, he couldn’t remember the last time, really. Sleep, sleep, not just a delirious drunk nap lasting for an hour. Well, maybe it had to do with the comfy sheets hugging his body. And the bed. Bed? Yeah, damn fine thing it was! Better than a maiden’s bosom, even! Wait, where was he?

Oh, wait a second. Right. The Hotel. The Happy Hotel. Hazbin Hotel? Yeah, it was all coming back now. The blur of the past several days in a chaotic city where monstrosities lurked around every corner, the shooting, the knifing, the mushroom based explosions. He came about the place yesterday, didn’t he? Well not _just_ him, he and his friends. They took a room, didn’t they?

And look at that, he wasn’t dead! What a dandy surprise that was, a great way to start the day.

Speaking of. “What day is it?” he slurred. He reached to his left, grasping a bottle and squinting at it. It was marked from neck to bottom – Mundus, Telsday, Velsday, Thurndus. . .

Thurndus? All right. He drank a finger before setting the “what-day-is-it” alcohol aside.

“You done snoring, mud-foot?”

Edwin pushed himself up. The fancy Hotel room surrounded him, gentle reddish-pink light flowing in from the window. In the corner of said room was Pik, attending to some kind of wicked chemical soup she was forming in a burbling cauldron. That was normal, she never wasted a moment to concoct a vicious hot sauce.

“Was it that good?” asked Edwin, rubbing his chin. Pik chittered.

“Like a fat walrus in the north-sea! I swear ya’ almost starting drooling!”

Edwin blinked, surprised, slapping the bed. “Well, diamonds! If I find a way to put a bed in a bottle, write it down for me!”

Pik turned, wearing a fanged grin, her green face touched by the purple light of her concoction. “Yeehee! Ya’ practically look _human_ ya boggy ghoul! Good for you.”

Huh. Well. Rest _did_ feel nice. Edwin stood, stretching. “Where’s our friend?” he asked, peering through the window. Sol above, this place went on forever, didn’t it? Nearly endless horizon of black towers and lights.

Pik wiggled her hand in the air. “Fancy pants is getting fancy. You know, in his room.”

His room? “Oh? That’s working, is it?”

Now, this was where things were getting all complicated-like. Aloise and Pik weren’t just a pair of smiling, psychotic faces. No, no, behind their facades of goblin and rabbit, they were much like the creatures dwelling in Pentagram City. Daemons to some. Aetherlings by another account. Pik wasn’t what she seemed, rather an imp wearing the form of a _Fae._ And Aloise? Oh, posh effeminate rabbit he may have appeared, but he was an Incubi still. Quite the pair of soul gobblers Edwin wandered with.

“ _Bek, bek,_ I donno!” Pik tossed back. “I guess? I don’t really take stock of what he’s up to, Eddy.”

Edwin didn’t mean _room_ in the traditional sense. Where Pik was a creature dabbling in fungomancy and a torrent of other unholy things, Aloise had a few powers up his sleeve, too. One such trick was his “room,” a kind of pocket within himself – or at least that’s how he described it. He “entered” it with a Black Key, a physical manifestation of his profane soul, allowing him to access a cozy corner dimension that worked like a tiny house. . . if that house was staked out in the real estate of endless oblivion, that is. Within the domain was an arsenal of Aloise’s personal items, from dashing getups, makeup, lace, jewelry, and knives. _Especially_ knives.

To Edwin quite normal. Down Here? The rules didn’t work the same as their home, or so it appeared.

“Can’t imagine he’s fussing with the others,” said Edwin, getting dressed, referring to the Hotel patrons.

“Hagh! No way!” Pik spun. “Did you _see_ the way he looked at the spider!? Eeeheehee!”

Edwin briefly recalled the pleasant meeting betwixt Angel and Aloise.

“Downright chummy, innit?”

Pik fought back more laughter. “Bun boy is _jealous.”_

At this, Edwin laughed. “Love, he’s the stab type, not the jealous type.”

Speak o’ the devil and he shall appear! Except, in this case, it was Aloise. The room shivered, and a black silhouette formed, a shadow shaped like a rectangle, dark as pitch. It was perfectly solid shape, coalescing into existence until pushed ajar. Then, stepping through with elegant footfalls was the effete rabbit, room light catching his snow-white fur and pink freckles. He swept his hair back with careful strokes, form hugged by a tight, regal attire.

Pik snickered at his approach, and Edwin did his best not to churn his visage with a grin while the door flickered and vanished behind him.

Aloise looked between them. “. . .what?”

“Morning, love,” Edwin started. “Nothing! We were just noting your spectacular sense of fashion, as usual.”

Aloise finished sweeping his hair, dispelling the fancy comb in hand. His ears perked, and he flushed. “Oh. Really?”

Then, he squinted, studying Edwin, realizing his friend wasn’t often one for compliments. “How drunk are you?”

Pik sauntered over, nudging Aloise on the leg. “Heehee, c’mon fancy pants! Take a compliment!”

Now, Aloise leered, sensing mischief. “Nmm. _What were you two talking about?”_

“Celebrating the start of a new morning,” said Edwin, almost grinning.

“Hah, sneeheehee, morning, right,” chortled Pik. “And _your_ new boyfriend, Allie.”

Aloise stiffened. “ _Excuse_ me?”

Pik kept snickering and laughing. “Yeah! You and that prissy set of legs downstairs! Match made in heaven, hah!”

Aloise put a hand to chest, his perfectly manicured black nails catching the exterior city lights. “Ugh, _please._ I’d rather gag on cheap wine zhen hang about with zhat tramp.”

“Gag onna’ cock you mean!” Pik said, head thrown back with laughter. “I could tell ol duster downstairs was good at more than just insulting!”

Aloise huffed, looking to Edwin while crossing her arms. “Make her _stop,_ would you?”

Edwin waved a hand. “Ohhhh love don’t mind her! Little spitfire’s just excited. Besides, you two would make the town sunnier than Sol’s ass, hargharhgh.”

Aloise hissed, showing his fangs. “Not _you_ too.”

Edwin crossed his arms. “Two’s a pair! And look, I’s figure we need more friends these days. Oughta’ warm up to this lot, you know? Give em’ the honey and wine.”

He leaned, gesturing to Aloise. “And _who_ better than a lad of your talents, eh?”

Aloise scowled, cheeks going scarlet. “I’m not going to _sleep_ with zhem!”

Pik laughed, but Edwin shook his head. “No, no, noooo. That’s our ace. I’m thinking something more friendly-like. You’re good at that too. Sometimes.”

Aloise squinted, clearing his throat and straightening once he realized Edwin wasn’t suggesting a more _intimate_ favor.

“Unless you diamonds have something better? Some fancy magic I didn’t know about?”

“We already told you no, Eddy,” said Aloise, calming. Pik shrugged too.

“Yeah, no change, big guy. In fact, it’s really futzin’ with me too, this _wegwa_ place. Channeling from the _Aehadara_ is fuggin’ hard now.”

By Aehadara, she meant the Aether, the source of her power and Aloise’s. Hmm.

“Well then. More’s the reason to be like bees on bonnets, eh? Having a _Princess_ keepin’ our shoulders dry ain’t such a bad deal, innit? Could use some comrades Down Here.”

Aloise gave a long sigh. “I suppose. She is a royal, at least. Or, so she says.”

A clap of hands. “Glad ya’ agree, Al! Cause I think you _should_ warm up to the pair o’ legs downstairs.”

The rabbit’s shock returned. “What!? I would _never!”_ He looked between his companions, helpless. “Why not _you_ two!”

Pik made a wanking gesture. “Because that set of arms is gonna get Eddy drunk and then fugg em’ and I don’t think bog-brain is smart enough to get himself out of that.”

“Nonsense!” challenged Edwin. “I don’t need _help_ getting drunk.”

Pik looked up to Aloise and giving him a “knowing” stare, gesturing at Edwin. “See? And you wouldn’t want him sneaking off with your boytoy, would you bunbutt?”

Aloise drew back, raising a hand. “Edwin is not my. . . that’s not! Hmph! You can’t just. . .”

He swore in languages and tongues known only to him. Damn imp.

“Something tells me that Angel fella would appreciate your dialect,” said Edwin. Aloise glared at him.

“You _can’t_ be serious!”

“More friends we have, better off we are. Maybe one of em’ knows the way back?”

Aloise crossed his arms, bun tail wiggling in agitation, hips leaning to side. “So what, I’m to trounce around with zhat harlot and _pretend_ to like him!?”

“Not pretend! Actually like him!”

The effeminate rabbit pointed at Pik. “Why not her!”

Edwin looked at the green imp of a gal, who smiled and looked all sorts of mischievous. “Somethin’ tells me the Hotel would be cinders by night.”

“Ugh.”

Pik pranced back to her cauldron, which spilled over with a viscous liquid. She tossed in a cut stem of a mutant fungus while fetching a bottle. “Aww c’mon fancy pants, what do you have against Legs anyway?”

Aloise’s nose wiggled in irritation. “He’s _rude!_ He’s loud! He’s _crass!_ No elegance! Strumpet whore-tramp with about as much subtlety as a bull in a glass shop.”

“We aren’t talking about Pik,” Edwin jabbed.

She flipped him off while she worked. “Eat me, bog brain!”

“Zhis is serious!” Aloise protested, outright stamping his foot. Edwin nodded.

“Sure is! We warm up to this crowd and we might get outta’ this with our entrails, eh?”

Aloise scowled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his ears straightening in a _very-pissed-off-rabbit_ sort of way.

“Ohh come on, Al, we’ll make up to you,” said Edwin, coming to Aloise and patting him on the shoulder. “Won’t we Pik?”

The imp turned and blinked. “We will?” Edwin stared her down.

“Er, uh, yeah, we will!”

Aloise rolled his eyes, realizing his fate was sealed. Truly, a terrible existence this was. But, Edwin wasn’t wrong, they _could_ use some pleasant company, and he’d rather his friends feel safe than threatened.

“Fine.”

Edwin stretched his arms with a victorious gesture. “Diamonds! Let’s drink to celebrate.”

Aloise narrowed his eyes, taking a digit and running it under Edwin’s chin, stopping him. He raced the finger across the skin, clicking his tongue, noting the whisper of white stubble appearing on his chin.

“No more drinking. And now I have to clean zhis. . . mess off your face.”

Edwin feigned a frown. “Augh, horrid beast!”

“You’ve already had your sauce, mudfoot,” Pik joined in. “I’m not peeling you off the ground again!”

Edwin grumbled. “Truly, you two are the devils on my shoulders.”

Aloise gave Edwin one more cautious once ever before returning to the subject. “Hmph. And what, exactly, are you and zhe imp going to do?”

Pik scooped a helping of her concoction in a glass bottle, eyeing it. “Guess we could fiddle with that spooky-spook who sounded like he had a crowd stuck in his throat.”

Edwin scratched his chin after Aloise retraced his finger. “Or the princess. Someone’s gotta’ know something, eh?”

“And what if zhey don’t?” said Aloise cheekily.

“Well,” Edwin mused, “Guess we saved time by ending up in Hell.”

-*-

At least in oblivion, they had free breakfast! The trio came downstairs not long after, invited by two petite yet adorable fluttering goats. They spoke only in bleats but it was easy to see they were the butlers of the establishment, and soon Edwin, Pik, and Aloise found themselves seated at a long dining table of carved, ornate wood.

And the food? Damn edible. Surprisingly so. Hell, by the time they finished, Edwin’s urge to drink decreased! Slightly! Truly, a miracle. The atmosphere was also, at least, relaxed. Or as relaxed as it could be. Angel continued to make flirty gestures towards Edwin, winking and blowing kisses, much to the sheer agitation of Aloise. Pik, on the other hand, wolfed down her food in furious, terrifying bites, while she collected the others for fungomancy experiments. When finished, Charlie insisted everyone group together in the living quarters for a sort of meet and greet, at least on a more personal basis.

“You’re going to love it here!” she cooed when the trio took their seats amidst the small crowd of Hotel patrons. “I just _knew_ we’d have guests!”

She beamed, glancing to her number one, Vaggie. “See?” she said. “There’s hope for sinners after all!”

Husk, the winged feline, rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Redemption, hah.”

Vaggie forced a smile to the princess before gazing back at Edwin and co. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe they’re just looking for a free room, like _you know who.”_

Angel Dust had his legs crossed, snickering. Then realization hit him. “Ey! Pull the stick outta’ ya snatch, _vagina._ I’ve been a good boy.”

Vaggie glared. “Getting wasted off your ass every other night isn’t good behavior!”

Charlie cut in, clearing her throat. “Now, come on. Everyone has a starting point. Angel’s been on his best behavior! Erm. Mostly.”

The spider grinned. “Yeah! Mostly!” Then he blew a raspberry.

“Now, now, Vagatha,” came the static-laced tone of Alastor. He coalesced behind her, patting her on the head in mock fashion.

“Try a smile! You might scare off our new flock of failures with that sourpuss attitude, ahaha!”

Vaggie pushed Alastor off, muttering swears in her native tongue. Edwin, in the meantime, looked at his comrades with an air of uncertainty.

“Sorry, not to piss in the wine,” Edwin said. “But what do you mean redemption?”

Alastor turned. “Ahah, well now, did we forget already?”

He gestured wide. “Why, this Hotel is the crucible for getting ‘better’ as the young miss puts it! Every lost cause and nefarious ninny will come o’ wandering through those doors for a chance to be good! Hah! Why it’s a regular comedy routine, it is!”

Once more, Charlie cleared her throat. “That will _do,_ Alastor.” She looked back to the trio.

“Yes, redemption!” she continued. “You know. . . being a better person to get to Heaven?”

Pik couldn’t hold back a smile. “Me!? In _Olyssia!?_ Bweeheeheeheee!” She cackled, pointing at Aloise. “Yeah, and _him_? Ehehehehe! He’d suck so many dicks they’d throw him right out, gahahaha!”

Charlie’s smile faded, her expression shifting to the crestfallen look not dissimilar to the one at the news station.

“I. . . I don’t understand.”

Edwin raised a gloved hand. “Hang on, love, I think we’re all a little dizzy in the ears, innit?”

“W-what?”

Edwin struggled, tapping his scarf-hidden chin. “It’s like, ah, hmm. We’re not from around here. From a different field, not the same crop o’ wheat. That sorta’ thing. Er.”

As Pik settled down, Edwin glanced to Aloise, pleading. “Help?”

The effete rabbit sighed, before taking a graceful stand. He straightened his tight, form fitting suit attire, putting a hand behind him and giving a small bow to Charlie.

“Your excellency,” he said in a polite, respectable manner. “What my colleagues mean to say, we are not _from_ here. We are strangers in zhe truest sense of zhe word. It is not out of zhe question to say we are from a different world altogether.”

Alastor tilted his head. “Well, isn’t _that_ something. This is getting quite entertaining indeed!”

Everyone looked confused. “Wait, wait, wait,” Charlie struggled. “You’re from Up There? You’re from Earth!?”

Aloise clicked his tongue, head shaking. “No, your excellency. We are from another realm _entirely_. How should I say? A dimension? A time?”

Charlie boggled. “B-but! You’re demons! Right!?”

“Working on it!” hollered Edwin.

Aloise gestured to himself and Pik. It _was_ a risk exposing themselves, but given the circumstance. . .

“Not in the sense you mean. I am. . . hmm. Like you, but not like you. Ah, how do they say? An Incubi?”

At this, Angel Dust sputtered, laughing, holding his head. “Ahahaha, fuck! You!? A pipe-pumper! Ya’ fancy bitch, what, ya’ expose your ankle for a penny!? Nyehahaha!”

Vaggie growled at the spider. “Angel! Shut up!”

Aloise did his best to ignore the comment and continued. “Hmph. Pik is a Tet from zhe _Aehadara._ She is, ah, like an imp. To you, yes, I suppose we are daemon, but _not_ of zhis place.”

“This is fucking crazy,” Husk coughed. “How drunk am I!? The hell are you freaks talkin’ about!?”

Charlie, too, looked flummoxed.

“You say heaven, and we say _Olyssia._ Our heaven, our home. You say ‘earth,’ we say Sol Solaria, zhe homeland. It is strange, yes, but we’re lost. Rather, stuck.”

The princess rubbed her head, walking back to sit down. “This is. . . wow. . .”

“Pfft. Sure. Sounds like a buncha’ roleplayin’ nerds all fuckin’ hopped up on buzzers n’marchin’ powder,” chided Angel.

“Well now,” said Alastor again. “A tall tale you’ve woven my effete fellow.” He looked at the others.

“You know, I’m thinking these troublemakers are telling the truth! Oh there’s something off about them, yes indeedy! They’re like a violin played the wrong way! Or a bass player with skill, ahaha!”

Aloise offered an apologetic expression, folding hands together. “It must sound strange, but it’s true.”

“If it makes ya’ feel better,” said Edwin. “We are a ripe pack of sinners, no doubt about that.”

Vaggie grumbled. “Okay, okay, hang on. Let’s assume you’re telling the truth,” she said. “Then how’d you get here?”

Edwin grinned through his scarf. “Now. . . there’s a yarn the size of a dog’s tail. Ever heard the story of _Morrikan’s Eye?”_

-*-

It took a while before everything sunk in. Edwin did his best to explain about their home and whence they came, the empire of Sol Solaria, the marshes, and so on. He told Charlie about _Morrikan’s Eye,_ the graveyard of ancient shipwrecks created in the _Black Ship_ crusades, how it was believed to be haunted or cursed. Or both. There was the flash, he said, and then, well, here they were.

Unsurprisingly, the more Edwin went on about the details of his homeland, the more Charlie and crew’s eyes glazed over. It was a lot to take in, an entire history’s worth, and about the moment Edwin explained he and his friends were on the run for always trying to locate magic peppers, Aloise nudged him to quiet.

“I think zhat will do.”

Edwin stopped. “Hmm, true. Need a finger of spirit before I get into the sordid stuff.”

Husk snorted, looking at the others. “You’re kidding, right? I hear all sorts of weird shit at the table but _this_ beats it all! These are just a bunch of lunatics all fucked in the head! I ain’t no fool! And neither should you be, Miss!”

“Now, now, charming Huskable, no need to throw vinegar in the water!” interjected Alastor, keeping his scarlet yes affixed to the three. “Don’t we owe it to these desperate, deplorable wretches to believe them in good faith?”

Vaggie rolled her eye and scoffed before nudging Charlie and pulling her attention. “Look, I’m with Husk on this one. Er. No offense to them. But this is just so. . . well. . . _insane.”_

Charlie flicked her eyes between Vaggie and the three.

“I tell ya’ the biggest load o’ horse shit!” commented Angel, staring Aloise down. “Don’t believe fer a second dat one is _any_ sort of seducer! Bitch, _please.”_

Pik only grinned, cackling. “Oh trust us, Legs! Allie works cock like a pro! Gets em’ high and leaves em’ dry!”

Aloise grunted, giving Angel the cold shoulder. “Some of us have _self-respect.”_

“Angel, cool it,” charged Charlie, shooting the spider a cautionary look. “Be nice to our guests.”

Angel sighed and muttered a ‘whatever’ before crossing his arms. Charlie returned to the trio. “Okay, um. Look. I will give you three the benefit of the doubt. I’ve trusted stranger things before. . .” she said, looking at Alastor who wiggled his fingers.

“But, why come here?”

Edwin chuckled. “Dying’s a bit inconvenient. Figured, hey, a royal could be a nice friend to have too. We’re sore for help, we are.”

Charlie brightened. “Friends?”

“Having two demons always on your legs gets ya’ into trouble,” said Edwin, eyes travelling around the rather spooky cast of Hotel guests. “Uh, but looks like that isn’t changing.”

The princess brightened, hopping on her feet as her eyes sparkled. Oh no. Vaggie _knew_ that look, the bedazzled, enchanted gaze of someone innocent and naïve consumed by notions of _positivity and happiness._

“Of course the Hotel will be your friends! Oh my god this is _so exciting!”_

“Diamonds!” said Edwin, gesturing wide. “We don’t know ass from head round’ these parts either. This city don’t seem to end.”

Charlie stopped. “Oh. You don’t know the city?”

Edwin shook his head, gesturing at Aloise. “Usually our lovely lad here keeps an eye on that.”

Aloise’s ears flagged and his tail wiggled in agitation, turning to Edwin and shooting him a look. “What!?”

“Aren’t’ you trying to stay _out_ of the city?” said Vaggie.

“Never hurts to know where there’s death and where there isn’t.”

Charlie looked around. “Oh. Hmm. Uh, well, I want you to feel at home, certainly. Perhaps, mister Aloise. . .”

The effete rabbit returned his eyes to the princess, smiling. “Oh, your excellency, _please,_ Aloise if you like.”

Charlie giggled. “Well okay, _Aloise._ Hmm. The one person who knows the city better than most of us is. . .”

Her gaze went to the spider, who was dusting his nails on his fluff improvised cleavage. When he noticed Charlie staring at him, he boggled. “Wait. _Wait!_ Chuck! Fuck no! Ya’ kiddin’ me!?”

“Angel, of course!” chimed Charlie. “He, uh, worked in the city, a lot.”

Husk snorted with laughter. “She means he was a fuckin’ whore.”

Angel scoffed. “Sex worker, _barfly._ You’d be less of a dipshit if ya’ got yer dick sucked once in a while. And anyway!”

He raised his arms out, scowling. “I ain’t playin’ tour guide for no prude!”

“Prude!?” interjected Pik. “Didn’t ya hear me, Legs?”

Angel looked at the imp, agitated. “Nhuh?”

Edwin chuckled. “I know we aren’t exactly chickens in a field right now, but, you and Al have more in common than you think.”

Alastor tossed his head back with a chuckle. “Hah! No.”

Edwin tilted his head. “Eh? Not you. _Al.”_

“A nickname only shared with bosom buddies, but I’ll let it slide this time,” said Alastor.

“He means Aloise!” shrieked PIk.

 _“Anyway,”_ interrupted Aloise. “I doubt we share _anything_ in common. Don’t _flatter_ him!”

Charlie observed the deteriorating situation, waving her arms. “Okay, okay, everyone calm down, all right? Look, I know we’re a little new and tense, but, Angel, I think it’d be _really_ good for you to show Aloise the city.”

Angel snorted, pointing at Edwin. “How come I can’t take tall n’handsome over there!?”

Aloise’s teeth clenched and he leered at the spider, pink eyes practically crimson.

“Afraid I just get into trouble,” said Edwin, easing away from the idea. “Besides, I’ve got some things to figure out first.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Angel whined, stamping a kinky boot and pouting. “Fuckin _jee-zus.”_

“Uh, no?” piped up Vaggie. “Am I the only one with common sense here?”

Alastor chuckled. “You _are_ the wet blanket here, my dear.”

Ignoring this, Vaggie continued. “I don’t want to name names, but I will. Last time Angel went on his own, _you know._ Violence? Territorial genocide? _Remember?”_

Both Pik and Edwin exchanged looks. Pik leaned into Edwin, snickering underneath her breath. “You sure you wanna’ send psycho with double-psycho?”

Edwin gave a helpless shrug. “At least they’ll get along?”

“It was justa’ brawl, snatch. Ya’ know, havin’ fun and helpin’ a friend. I know dat’s confusin’ to ya, what with ya’ know, _your lack of.”_

Charlie waved this off. “It’ll be oookay Vaggie. Besides, Aloise, you can keep an eye on Angel, right?” she added with a wink.

“What!?” shouted the spider.

Aloise looked stiff. “If I _must.”_

“Good!” said Charlie, clapping her palm with fist. “This is great! I can tell we’ll all be getting along like best pals!”

Angel made a face. “Fuckin’ fine, ugh, _ugh._ Just don’t go cryin’ back home when it gets rough out there, _princess.”_

Aloise didn’t respond, returning to his seat, crossing his legs, and maintaining an icy demeanor.

“What a lovely two pair,” Alastor chuckled before gesturing at Pik and Edwin. “And what of this duo? A chaotic carbuncle like yourself seems _quite_ fascinating.”

He stepped forward, leaning. “In fact, I’m quite curious about this _Morrikan_ business.”

“Well!” piped up Edwin, notably cheerier. “Glad to hear it. Gives me an excuse to drink more.”

Aloise flicked his eyes to his smaller companion. “Pik.”

“I know, I know, _I’m watchin’ em,”_ she grumbled.

-*-

It was afternoon, or at least by the standards of Pentagram City.

In the foyer, never was there a more startling contrast between two individuals. On one hand, there was Aloise. He wore a tight, form-accenting attire and short tailcoat suit, one that hugged his frame with black pressed silk and revealed the curves of his effeminate frame. His nails were polished, his pink hair coiffed carefully, eyeshadow and mascara complementing his alluring eyes while he held an ornate cane to complete the ensemble.

The other? Angel Dust’s striped _Valentino,_ kinky boots hugging his long legs, wearing a gentle perfume, his only prudence a timid black skirt riding up his hips. When he saw Aloise, he snickered.

“Ya _really_ steppin’ out like that, ain’t ya?”

Aloise gave him an unimpressed once over. “You’re much braver than I to be wearing zhat.”

Now Angel growled, exasperated with the antics. “Kay’, bitch, use dem’ ears nice and proper like. I got better things t’be doin’ than babysittin’ some whiny priss. Coulda’ been workin’ some fresh dick but noooo, I gotta’ be _good,”_ he said, making finger quotes.

“I see zhat having _standards_ is foreign to you, sieur.”

Angel made a face. “AY SHEE DAT HAVING SHTANDARDS. Fuck off wit dat high n’mighty attitude, would ya’? Yer friends seem more fun’n you. S’matter? Missin’ that good-good?”

“Try something with zhem, and you _will_ regret it.”

Angel snorted. “Bitch, I’ll fuckin’ split ya’ in half, and I don’t mean witta’ dick.”

Here, the effete rabbit sighed. He wiggled his free hand, leering at Angel. “Let me make zhis as. . . monosyllabic as possible. If you think you’ll do _anything_ with zhem, my friends, _my Eddy. . .”_

A motion cut the wind, as fast as silver death, a quick shiver of light rising forward. At once, Aloise summoned a pointed knife, a deadly stiletto point, brandishing the edge towards Angel’s chin before the spider could reasonably react. Aloise’ pink eyes flared _murder,_ and he hissed through his fangs.

“It will be zhe last thing you ever do.”

Angel boggled, rearing back as his mismatched eyes blinked, focusing on the edge suddenly pressed toward him. Then. . . his surprise faded, and he grinned, pushing the knife away with his finger.

“Hah. Aha! Ahaahha! Well, look at you’ze ya’ little protective she-bitch. Didn’t know you’ze was so dick hard for that spook. Now I’m _extra_ interested.”

Aloise didn’t settle. “Put dat thing away. It’s rude to flash n’public.’

_Click._

What Aloise _didn’t_ see was a summoned handgun aimed at the bun’s stomach. The rabbit’s ears wiggled, realizing. Angel smirked. “See? I gots tricks too.”

The knife flickled, Aloise twirling it through fingers before Angel put the gun away too. “Alright bitch, ‘nuff foreplay. Let’s get dis’ over with.”

He went to the door, opening it before gesturing in an exaggerated manner. “Ladies first.”

Aloise said nothing else, twirling his cane and taking gentle strides out the door as the spider followed behind, the chaos of Pentagram City swarming over them both in a blitz of lights and noise.

“Ugh. It’s repulsive,” commented the rabbit, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thin, silver box.

“I know! Ain’t it da’ best!?”

Aloise ignored this, flipping it open before dabbing a substance on his thumb and sniffing it hard between both nostrils. Angel caught this, blinking, surprised. Wait a second.

“Whoa. _Whoa._ Da’ fuck is dat!?”

Aloise pressed the substance into his gums. “Something to help me _tolerate_ all zhis.”

Angel laughed. “Whoahaha, hang on, bun! Nobody told me ya’ liked to party! You gonna’ pass that shit here or what!?”

Aloise glared at him. “Will it make you shut up?”

“Nope!”

Another groan before Aloise held out the silver box in annoyed fashion. Angel licked his lips, taking it in a surprisingly polite manner before leaning and snorting a dab of whatever the hell this was. And when it it, _it hit._

“WHA!” Angel screamed, head thrown back in ecstacy. “Oh FUCK ME DADDY, OH FUCK!”

He shoved the box back into Aloise’s chest, holding his head. “Oh, _oh, oh, fuuuuck me, what is dat!? Dat’s better n’dick!_ SHIT!”

Aloise tucked it away. “Pure, refined _Solt._ Comes imported from Ussadian cane fields, only for zhe Counts.”

Angel was beside himself. “I’unno what’cha just said but that fuckin’ blow is. . . fuck!”

He threw an arm around Aloise’s shoulder (much to his abject horror), holding him close. “Oh bitch I think you’n me is gonna’ get along muuuuch better now! Didn’t know ya’ could party, babe!”

“First time with it, I see,” said Aloise, tone cold. “Now, please, sieur. Where are going?”

Angel giggled. “What else do bitches do onna’ Friday night!? Suck dicks n’ go shoppin!”

Despite his sheer irritation with the loud, obnoxious behavior of his spider “escort,” Aloise remembered this was for the benefit of his friends. If getting along with Angel Dust meant keeping his friends safe and finding a way home, well, he’d abide by it. Hmm. And a cock might shut him up. Provide some entertainment.

“I see,” returned Aloise. “And exactly how is zhe ‘menu?’ I’m surprised half of zhese abominations have a cock to begin with.”

At the street’s edge, a taxi appeared, while Angel gave the rabbit a mischievous look. “Wehehel, you’ze full of surprises, ain’t ya?”

Aloise gave a hard chuckle. “Don’t complain when they prefer my mouth to yours.”

“HAH!”

The taxi rolled up. Aloise gave it a cautious glance, given that he was hardly familiar with these strange metal beasts. Similar yet quite different from the enchanted carriages of home. Still, he had the basic idea, striding towards it and opening the back door before gesturing inside.

“Ladies first,” he said with a smirk. Angel grinned.

“Okay, fuck, I take it back. Keep that blow comin’ and come when ya’ blow and we gonna get along _real good,_ fancy pants.”

Aloise didn’t know about that, but he’d been in much worse company. He could abide this. Once the two were seated Aloise crossed his legs while the door shut.

“Downtown!” commanded Angel to the driver, a massive eye surrounded by slimy tendrils. “Fancy bitch district, and make it snappy-like!”

Well, Aloise mused, it did have the word fancy in it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

As the taxi drove towards its destination, Aloise witnessed what appeared to be an armada of random hobo fights, just for the hell of it, intermixed with the endless chaos the city promised.

[. . .it would be _that_ bad.](https://youtu.be/oI1VzSNhMpo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two effeminate, violent fellas out on the town! Egads, what could possibly go wrong!?


End file.
